


Pair of Thieves

by Mandielle



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Opposites Attract, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, Warnings May Change, he's a bounty hunter, you're a thief
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22794112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandielle/pseuds/Mandielle
Summary: The puck was forcefully placed on the bar top right next to your cup of freshly brewed spotchka. The sudden sharp sound in the otherwise quiet tavern made you flinch, but you didn’t make a move to look towards the presence you felt over your shoulder. You shifted your eyes towards the puck to see your beautiful face glowing blue and slowly rotating. Above your face, your name shown in red letters so bright they reflected off the shiny wood of the bar. You sighed and closed your eyes, bowing your head to meet the counter with a soft thunk. Deep down, you knew it was only a matter of time, but two weeks?! Normally it took the hunters at least a month to track you down.
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 89





	1. Chapter 1

The puck was forcefully placed on the bar top right next to your cup of freshly brewed spotchka. The sudden sharp sound in the otherwise quiet tavern made you flinch, but you didn’t make a move to look towards the presence you felt over your shoulder. You shifted your eyes towards the puck to see your beautiful face glowing blue and slowly rotating. Above your face, your name shown in red letters so bright they reflected off the shiny wood of the bar. You sighed and closed your eyes, bowing your head to meet the counter with a soft _thunk_. Deep down, you knew it was only a matter of time, but two weeks?! Normally it took the hunters at least a month to track you down.

“Don’t run, kid. I’ve had a long day.” The presence behind you said in a deep, almost robotic voice. Weird… this voice didn’t sound like the ones you were used to. It begun to seem that the same hunters picked your puck whenever you got mixed up in trouble. They knew you weren’t a fighter or a runner, and you assumed they relished an easy assignment. Some of them were even nice to you, like you were the closest thing they had to a friend. You couldn’t judge because sadly they were the closest things you had to friends now too.

You sighed again, lifted your head, and lazily turned to face your fate only to find… a Mandalorian? 

“Seriously?” You blurt out, turning to face him fully. He tilted his shiny helmet at you in a silent question while you gave him a quick look over. You’d never seen a Mandalorian this close up before. His helmet was shiny and looked much newer than his scuffed, multicolored body armor. He was tall and stood confidently. The sleek silver helmet made him look undeniably intimidating. “They sent a Mandalorian after me?”

“Not exactly,” he answered back. “I took all the pucks they had left. You’re my last stop before returning to Nevarro.” He sounded grumpy, like he was the one about to be turned in and shipped to a cell. He slid the puck off the counter, and put it back in his pocket before resting both gloved hands on his belt, turning to face you again. You assumed he was giving you an expectant look under the helmet.

“Oh,” you answered lamely. Suddenly you didn’t feel as special. Oh well, at least you might get to hear some new stories before you’re turned over. Surely a Mandalorian has no shortage of adventurous tales to tell; the difficult part was going to be getting them out of him. Hopefully you could talk him out of turning you into a carbonite popsicle for the return trip. You looked down at your half empty cup of spotchka. “Can I at least finish my drink? It would be a waste of perfectly good spotchka.”

He sighed loud enough that his vocal enhancer picked it up, turning it to sharp static. His helmet tilted towards the drink, looking to see how much was left, before he looked back at you. “Chug it, we gotta go.” 

_Interesting_ , you thought. _Maybe he wasn’t as grumpy as he seemed._ You downed the rest of your spotchka in one long gulp. “Who needs to savor things anyway,” you muttered under your breath. You stand, leaving some credits on the bar top to cover the drink and a tip, before turning to the Mandalorian. “Alright sir, let’s go.” 

You lead the way toward the door, but only make it a few steps before you feel an insistent hand on your shoulder, gently tugging you back a step. _What now_ You turned to the Mandalorian, shaking off his hand as you did.

“Do you really expect me to let you walk out of here without cuffs?” He asked, sounding shocked by your audacity. It was an honest mistake, but you feel a little proud of yourself. Sure, you were in and out of short term jail ships, but rarely did you get to feel like a take charge badass. You weren’t a hardened criminal after all; you preferred to think of yourself as a highly moral vigilante. Hell, you were buddies with your regular bounty hunters! They must have been spoiling you all those times they let you walk freely in front of them to their ships. You kinda forgot that getting handcuffed was normal protocol.

“My bad, sir. It’s been awhile since I’ve had a new hunter bring me in. Most of the guild knows me well enough to know I won’t run.” You said with a small smile, hoping he would be cool about it.

“Hands out.” he replied. Well kriff, very uncool. You rolled your eyes a little but obediently held your hands out in front of you, watching as the Mandalorian put the cuffs around your wrists. He was careful to not make them too tight, which you appreciated. He double checked that they were locked, brushing his gloved hands over your wrists softly. “Let’s go,” he said, strolling past you to walk towards the door. You turned and followed, surprised he wasn’t guiding you by your hands like a pet on a leash. This must mean he trusted you a little, even if he wasn’t ready to admit it. 

His ship was a short trip from the bar, but it was parked remotely in the middle of the forest. You struggled a bit with the terrain — stumbling on roots and fallen branches without the ability to stabilize yourself with your arms. You could see the Mandalorian’s helmet turn back every once in awhile to make sure you were still behind him. Once it got to the point where you were lagging behind enough to become a burden, he took pity on you and stopped. You caught up with him after a few painfully awkward seconds of stumbling. You breezed past him cooly without looking up at his visor, throwing a quick “c’mon slow poke” over your shoulder for good measure. You couldn’t tell if he gave a little vocalized chuckle or if it was the sound of the forest floor under your feet, but you decided to go with the former. 

The Mandalorian fell in line behind you, electing to stick closer to you for the rest of the journey. When you stumbled over a particularly rough patch of earth, he reached out to gently catch your upper arm, stabilizing you quickly before removing his hand. He probably wanted to make sure he wasn’t delivering damaged goods to his client. Ever the professional.

It only took about two minutes more before you reached the ship. It was beautiful, practically an antique, and you could tell the Mandalorian took good care of it. As you approached, the Mandalorian pressed some buttons on his vambrace, and the side ramp began to lower slowly. He took your arm again, and led you up the steep incline before letting go in favor of pressing some buttons near the ramp entrance. He flipped on some interior lights and closed the ramp while you took the opportunity to look around. You stepped into the ship and looked to your left, taking in the short corridor. There was a vactube, a small hatch, and what looked like a locked weapons cabinet. You looked to the right and found a longer corridor. You turned back to make sure the Mandalorian was still preoccupied with getting the ship ready for flight before you started slowly walking down the hallway. 

The outside of the ship looked so big, yet inside felt cramped. _Didn’t Mando say that I was the last bounty before heading back to his planet? Where was everyone else?_ You figured there must be a separate area of the ship, maybe cells or quarters, dedicated for crew and passengers. You continued down the hallway, passing storage cabinets and a large closed door to the right that you assumed was the Mandalorian’s sleeping quarters. Your eyes drifted to the left and you felt a chill run down your spine. 

“ _Kriff_ ” you breathed quietly as your eyes raked past at least 10 carbonite blocks. The lights on the sides indicated that they were currently occupied. You raise your cuffed hands to part two of the blocks, looking up to see the poor creature's face frozen in terror. It’s hard to imagine what crime could justify this harsh treatment. Surely the Mandalorian hadn’t been catching vicious murderers back to back in one outing. They were probably simple bail jumpers and low level thieves, no worse than you.

You couldn’t help but think about the last time you were forced into a carbonite hibernation. It was at least 8 years ago, you were probably only a teenager, but it was a vivid memory. The hunter was brutal, the worst you’ve ever dealt with, and you suspected he got pleasure out of making his bounties feel hopeless. You were terrified going in, but coming out was the truly traumatizing event. You didn’t know where you were or how much time had passed. You were blind for almost 8 hours from the hibernation sickness, and had to nurse yourself back to health in your jail cell. It was not an experience you wanted to relive for the rest of your life.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw a dark figure move and you quickly jumped back, hands dropping in front of you with your palms out. The Mandalorian stood silently, visor tipped down to look at you. He was only about two feet away from you, yet you didn’t hear him approach. How long had he been following you down the corridor, watching you? 

This was the first time in a long time that you felt legitimately scared of a bounty hunter.

You both stood in silence for what felt like hours. You were too afraid to break the silence and he was probably waiting for some sort of apology or explanation. Finally, you got the courage to squeeze out a faint “are you going to freeze me, too?” So much for feeling like a badass. In this moment you felt like a small, helpless child again.

His helmet tilted again, and this time the action seemed menacing. He shifted his weight a little, but continued towering over you. “I was planning on it,” he said, his low voice raspy and terrifying. 

“Any chance I can talk you out of that plan?” You asked, daring to let out a scared chuckle. 

“I’m not a big fan of talking,” he replied, putting both hands back on his belt like he had in the tavern.

“What if I promise to be quiet? I’ll even sit in the cockpit so you can keep an eye on me,” you quickly pleaded back. You tried to make your face look innocent, but you figured that wouldn’t really make a difference if the Mandalorian had his heart set on sticking you in a block. Either way, you weren’t afraid to sound desperate.

He sighed again, but didn’t answer immediately. You suspected he was building the tension for dramatic effect. You were about to tell him never mind and bravely become part of the frozen bounty menagerie when -

“Fine,” he replied.

“Wait, what?” 

“I said fine. But you’re staying cuffed and quiet.” 

He turned his back to you, walking to the end of the corridor and stopping by the ladder leading up to the next floor. He faced you again, but you were frozen (thankfully not literally) in your spot. Once your brain caught up, you practically ran toward the ladder. _Best to not keep the terrifying, generous man waiting._

“Sorry,” you happily sighed. “I wasn’t expecting you to say yes.” You felt like you could cry tears of relief.

The Mandalorian grunted, not caring enough to come up with a reply. You watched as he scaled the ladder deftly before turning back to face you. He reached down, motioning for you to give him your hands. You obliged, reaching out to let him grasp both of your cuffed hands in his so he could pull you up while your feet climbed the ladder. When you made it to the cockpit, he turned away from you, wordlessly pointing to the chair behind him to his right. He sat down and immediately started pushing buttons and flipping switches. You felt the ship vibrate and heard the sound of both engines starting up. You sat down in your seat and took in the sights outside the ship’s big windows. The forest looked beautiful when you weren’t tripping your way through it. 

“Brace yourself.” The Mandalorian barked, keeping his eyes on the control panel in front of him. You hunkered down in your seat, preparing to take off. The ship jerked as it gently lifted off the ground and slowly turned towards the sky before gaining speed. It wouldn’t be long before you broke atmo and went into hyperspace. The ship was old, but you assumed the hyperdrive was in relatively good condition. From Sorgan, it would probably take only a few hours to get to Navarro. You settled down for the ride ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo this is my first ever fic. Is it obvious? Also I've only ever seen Episode 4 (a long time ago), Rogue One, and The Mandalorian. That is the extent of my Star Wars knowledge. A lot of research went into this, but please forgive any signs of my ignorance. I already have a few chapters written, but wanted to see what people thought of this first chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't mind any Star Wars lore errors. I'm learning as I go!

You lasted longer than even the Mandalorian had assumed, you were sure of it. The first hour was painful silence only broken when he needed to switch, press, or pull something on the console. You no longer felt as scared as you had downstairs, but instead you were getting bored. Hundreds of questions were littering your mind, and it got harder and harder to keep them from bubbling up and out of your mouth. You wanted to explore the ship, maybe defrost some fellow criminals while you were at it, but you knew there was no way of doing either of those things without facing Mandalorian wrath. Surely one question wouldn’t send him off the rails. You just had to think of a good one. There was one question you always had that you never got a clear answer on. It’s touchy, but maybe it would work to break the ice.

“Is the M-word a slur?” _Might as well go full throttle_ , you thought. It came out louder than intended in the quiet cockpit, but you hadn’t spoken in so long that you couldn’t help it.

The Mandalorian, to his credit, did not haul you off and freeze you immediately. He was quiet for a moment, before saying “I thought you were going to be quiet.”

“Sorry, sir, I figured this was an important enough question that it could take precedence over our agreement?” You didn’t mean for that to sound like a question. You knew you were pushing your luck with this hunter, but you were too curious to keep your mouth shut. 

He let out another sigh. “What is the M-word?”

“Uh.. I don’t want to say it in case it’s rude. It’s like Mandalorian but shorter.”

“Mando,” he supplies.

“Yeah, it’s rough on the ears. Always sounded offensive to me.”

“It’s not inherently a slur, though some people use it as one,” he answered graciously.

“Interesting…” you trailed off. That satisfied you for a good 20 minutes.

“Are you a man?” You asked after another period of silence. You had assumed up to this point that he was, but under that voice enhancer/modulator, it was anyone’s guess. 

“Yes,” he answered simply.

“Yeah, I figured, but you know what they say about assumptions…” you trailed off again. “Why didn’t you freeze me?”

The Mandalorian didn’t answer back right away. He was probably thinking something like ‘because you said you’d be quiet,’ which would be fair. You started to think he was just going to ignore you for the rest of the trip when he finally responded. 

“No offense kid, but you don’t look like much of a threat,” he answered, and this time you were sure that short bout of static at the end was a laugh.

You looked down to look at your clothes, gifts from some local Sorgan farmers. They provided you a lot when you showed up on a cargo ship with stolen credits and nothing more. You stayed with them for about a week before you ventured into the “bustling” part of town. You kinda missed them. The women all helped you by pitching in their extra clothes when they saw the outfit you arrived in. You had just escaped from Maldo Kreis and you were sweltering in your heavy jacket and thick pants. You ended up with a light grey long-sleeved undershirt, which you covered with a dark blue short-sleeved tunic, and a long grey skirt. The skirt pooled at your feet a little bit as the nice woman who gave it to you was at least two inches taller. They even gifted you a hat, but it didn’t fit over your wild brown curls that snaked their way down to your waist. Using a cuffed hand, you picked up one of your curly ends and frowned. You needed a haircut.

“It’s not the hair,” the Mandalorian stated suddenly. You looked up at him, and realized he had partially turned around to face you while you were lost in thought. He cleared his throat, turning back around to look at his controls before continuing. “Or the skirt. It’s your face. If I didn’t have your chain code, I would have assumed you were 15.”

“15?!” You scoffed at him. You had just turned 24, thank you very much. Sure you were a little shorter than average, but 15! That was borderline offensive.

“Maybe younger.”

“Sir, for all I know you’re younger than me under there,” you quipped back.

“And you keep calling me ‘sir’ like a child would,” he stated.

“I’m just being polite to my bounty hunter!” You paused for a few seconds. “Fine, if I can’t call you sir or the M-word, which I’m still dubious about, what should I call you? You got a name?”

“I have a name, but it hasn’t been spoken in many years. I would prefer if that went unchanged.” His tone seemed more pleasant now, less annoyed. Insulting you seemed to put him in a good mood.

“Fair enough. Can I make up a name for you?”

“We only have about an hour left on our journey,” he said in the place of an answer. That revelation made you sad. Were you ever sad to leave a bounty hunter before? If you were, you couldn’t remember a specific time. You were just getting to know him, as much as he would allow, and who knows when you’ll run into a mandalorian again. _To hell with it_. Might as well make it a fun hour.

“I think I’ll call you Ben. That’s a strong name.” You didn’t offer any response about the length of your journey.

“Ben it is, kid.”

“My name is Claramonde.” You responded, hoping he’d take the hint and stop referring to you as ‘kid.'

“I know,” the Mandalorian - Ben - replied. Of course, he had your chain code. He already knew your name, and probably every crime you’ve ever committed. Well, at least the ones where you got caught.

“You can call me Clara though… I thought Mandalorians were supposed to be cold and stoic. No offense, but you’re kind of a chatterbox.” You leaned back in your seat, finally starting to feel relaxed in the cockpit.

“For someone concerned with not wanting to misgender or insult me, you seem fine with generalizing,” Ben replied quickly. Your comfort dissolved into shame, and you started talking over yourself trying to get out an apology. Ben turned around in his seat, his intense helmet rotating to meet your eyes. You heard three quick static vibrations come from his direction, and it took you a few seconds to realize it was laughter. Actual, genuine laughter. “Just a joke, kid. Relax.” 

You narrowed your eyes at the t-shaped visor, hoping he could sense how little you cared for his teasing. “Very funny, Ben,” you said quietly. Internally, you were thanking the gods that he had a good sense of humor.

“Actually, I have a question, if you don’t mind.” Ben seemed earnest now, all joking set aside. He remained facing you. _He_ had a question for you? What could he possibly want to know, and why did he care?

“Uh sure, fire away,” you responded hesitantly.

“Your rap sheet is long, way longer than I expected for someone your age. It’s minor stuff, mostly theft. When we left Sorgan, you left the bartender a tip even though you had the perfect excuse not to pay at all. You didn’t try to run or fight. You seem like a good kid…” he trailed off. You understood the backdoor question though, and it’s not the first time you’ve been asked.

“I am a good kid. I always have been,” you replied. “It’s kind of a long story.”

“We have about 55 minutes until we reach our destination.” You guessed that was the Mandalorian’s way of letting you know it’s alright to continue. 

“Well, as cliche as it is, it all started when I was young. I was born on the planet Corellia. It was beautiful, but not without economic issues. When I was still a baby, my parents left me on the doorstep of an orphanage because they couldn’t afford to feed another mouth. Despite that, I was lucky; the orphanage I grew up in was clean and safe. When I started going to school, I realized other orphans weren’t so lucky. 

“I think I was about 13 when I stole for the first time. One particularly cold night, a little girl from a neighboring orphanage tapped on my window. The bigger kids lived on the bottom floor so we could stop the tweens from sneaking out,” you remembered with a giggle. “The girl wanted to see if we had leftover food. She was so skinny, and looked so cold. I pulled her through my window, sat her on my bed, and covered her with blankets. I snuck into the kitchen, which was off limits to us kids, and stole a big bowl of bone broth and some bread for her. She ate so fast, so desperately, that I had to keep reminding her to slow down. I slept on the floor that night.”

“That was very kind of you,” Ben replied during a lull in your monologue. You smiled, looking down at your hands.

“Thank you, s- Ben. From there it kind of escalated. Word spread fast, and I started stealing from our kitchen to feed more and more kids that would show up on cold nights. Then, I started stealing food from the market. Then clothes, supplies, credits.” You looked back up at the Mandalorian. “There are so many kids all over the galaxy who are struggling, starving and cold. Wealthy traders and merchants could help, but they don’t, so I do instead.”

“So you’re a noble thief,” Ben summarized with a tilt of his helmet. 

You laughed out loud for the first time in what feels like days. “Yes, I suppose I am. For the benefit of a child, I believe everyone should be.”

Ben nodded in agreement. “I was an orphan too,” he said quietly. You were a little taken aback, not expecting such a raw and personal statement from the man who won’t even share his first name. “My parents passed, and I was taken in by the Mandalorians as a foundling. They trained me as their own and gifted me a life of purpose.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, Ben, I can’t even imagine that feeling…” Normally you were never lacking for words, but you weren’t used to emotional connections like this one. “Um, for what it’s worth though, you seem like a good kid too.” 

The Mandalorian paused for a second before turning his seat back to look at the main console. Maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say. Perhaps he took it as an insult. You stayed quiet in your seat, not wanting to say anything to make it worse.

“Nobel or not,” Ben said, breaking the silence. “I have to take you in either way. You understand that, right?” He didn’t turn to face you. Maybe he felt ashamed about turning you in now that he knows your story. _Good_ , you thought. _Maybe he’ll think about this next time he wants to freeze someone in carbonite._

“I get it. You’ve gotta do your job just like everyone else. No hard feelings,” you assured. You saw his helmet bob in a small nod, acknowledging your response. The rest of the ride was spent in a comfortable silence.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Kid!” A loud, masculine voice pierced through the ruckus. Your eyes snapped open, your brain registering the noise. It sounded familiar. It can’t be, you thought. “KID,” the voice yells again, louder than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains active shooter imagery that might be triggering for some people.

Jail wasn’t so bad, especially when it wasn’t your first time. They gave you a place to sleep, food to eat, and new people to interact with. It had been almost three months since the Mandalorian turned you in. You remembered how awkward he was handing you off, whispering a quick apology to you before turning and leaving without a second look. No apology was necessary though, you understood the likely consequences when you stole enough food for a small village on Maldo Kreis. 

When you weren’t eating or sleeping, there wasn’t much by way of entertainment in your cell. You exercised, but that was no fun. You talked to the people in the surrounding cells, but they often times were short-tempered and not down for a deep conversation. So most of your time was spent laying in your cot, humming along to music that wasn’t playing. 

You were doing just that when you started hearing actual music playing somewhere far away on the ship, echoing through the hallways. _That couldn’t be right…_ You stopped humming, your eyes popped open and you started to sit up to get a better grasp on the sound. It sounded like drums pounding, but it didn’t follow a beat. You walked to the door, looking out of the cell into the hallway. Your hall mates were doing the same, looking between each other and down the long hallway. You heard a faint scream from another hall, and suddenly realized what that irregular percussion was.

“Blaster fire,” you shout, warning everyone that could hear you. None of you were safe, locked in your cells and unable to fight back. “Everyone, hide behind the doors so it looks like your cell is empty.” You took your own advise, sitting with your back to the door with your knees hugged to your chest. You crossed your arms around your legs, squeezing yourself so you were as small as possible. The blaster fire was getting louder. You wondered what the shooter’s intent was. Was this an escape from a fellow prisoner? Did the droids go haywire and start attacking each other? Was a vengeful victim targeting someone specific? _Were they looking for me?_ You closed your eyes, shutting them tight against the idea that someone could be here to hurt you. Surely none of your enemies were that evil…

The blaster fire continued getting louder, closer. You started to hear some inmates screaming out in fear. The droids were beeping and you could hear their heavy feet clank across the floor. It got so loud you couldn’t hear yourself think anymore. You felt so helpless, like a sitting mynock waiting to be slaughtered. A stray tear ran down your cheek, the shooter was right outside your cell now. 

“Kid!” A loud, masculine voice pierced through the ruckus. Your eyes snapped open, your brain registering the noise. It sounded familiar. _It can’t be_ , you thought. “KID,” the voice yells again, louder than before. 

“Ben,” you replied. You meant it to be a question, and you meant it to be louder. But your voice was washed away in the noise outside your cell. Your door rattled against your back as a droid was thrown against it. You looked up to see its head stuck between the bars of your cell. You heard loud blaster fire, and the droid dropped to the ground. There was quiet for a moment — the Mandalorian had fought off all the droids in this area, but you knew more were bound to come. 

“Clara, look alive.” That got you off your feet, finally. You moved back away from the door, hearing some mechanical clicking happening on the other side. You were silent, still in disbelief. Your mind raced, trying to think of any possible reason this hunter would be back for you. _He told me too much and now he’s here to kill me, you thought. Or maybe he’s breaking me out to deliver me somewhere worse._

The door unlocked with a soft _click_. It swung open, revealing the Mandalorian standing on the other side. The droid’s broken arm, still in the key position, was in his hand. 

“You’re shiny,” you said, breaking the silence after a few moments. His whole body was covered in new beskar armor, not the beat up multicolored suit you came to know. 

“Very astute,” he answered, dropping the droid’s sparking arm to the ground. “We’ve gotta go.”

He turned before you had a chance to agree or ask why or say anything else. In your shocked state, you followed silently, walking over lifeless droids in the path to wherever Ben was taking you. At least it seemed that there were no living beings injured. Other prisoners yelled at the pair of you as you walked past. Some were questioning if they were safe, others were asking to be freed as well. 

“Take me too!” You heard someone yell close to your ear. You had gotten closer to one of the cells than you meant to and before you could move away, the man inside grabbed your arm tight and pulled you towards the bars. “Tell the Mando to take me too, lady. I’ll pay him more than whatever you’re paying.”

You pulled your arm back, trying to get away. You looked to see where Ben went — you didn’t want to lose him in the confusing hallways of the jail ship — only to find him already walking quickly in your direction. He pointed his blaster at the prisoner’s head.

“Let. Go.” 

You didn’t even know his voice could get that low and poisonous. Immediately your arm was released. The prisoner held both his hands up, and Ben lowered his weapon. He grabbed your upper arm and guided you away. He kept his blaster out as he gently pulled you along, turning here and there. 

You made a right turn and practically ran into four guard droids. Luckily, their backs were turned away from you. Ben quickly pushed you behind a pillar. He put both his hands on your shoulders, making sure you were up against the wall and well hidden. “Stay here,” he whispered. He walked back out into the corridor, raising his blaster and firing off a few rounds. You stayed hidden for a moment, but couldn’t help peaking out from behind the wall a little, just to keep on eye on the fight in case you needed to run. 

Ben was outnumbered, but he was making quick work of taking them out. One droid charged from the front while another was attacking from the back. Ben used his blaster to take down the one in front of him, utilizing the grappling hook from his vambrace to catch the falling droid before swinging it behind him to take out the one trying to sneak up on him. The third droid was trying to land a shot, but Ben dodged each attempt. He knocked the droids feet out from under it before taking the long rifle off his back. Ben shoved the pointy end into the droid’s head, destroying it before flipping the rifle around and plunging it deep into the final droid’s neck area. For good measure, the Mandalorian pressed a button on the gun, sending electricity through the droid’s twitching body. He made it look easy, like a well choreographed dance.

Ben turned around to look at you before motioning with his head. “C’mon.” Once you were out from behind the wall, he returned his hand to your arm. You walked down a few more hallways until finally, you came to an endpoint. There was a ladder leading up.

“You first,” Ben said as he moved you toward the ladder. “Up and then into the cockpit.”

You looked up and saw that the ladder led into Ben’s ship. He must have docked directly onto the prison ship and hacked the entry ports to open. _Very impressive._ You hesitantly looked back at him. You felt like you might be walking into a trap. 

“Please, Clara. I’ll explain everything. _Trust me_ ,” he said. You thought for a moment about how any common serial killer would probably say the exact same thing to get a young girl on their spaceship. But Mandalorians had codes, morals — if you couldn’t trust him, you could at least trust the Mandalorian culture that Ben was obviously very committed to. Plus, being murdered by a Mandalorian would make for a pretty cool eulogy. You nodded at him, and climbed up the ladder. Ben following slightly behind you. Once on the ship, you looked around and located the second ladder before climbing that, too. You were ready to take the seat you had occupied three months earlier, but there was something in its place. A big metallic egg that looked a little beat up. However, you didn’t have time to question the Mandalorian’s choice of decor, so you elected to sit in the seat directly behind the pilot’s chair. Ben came up not too long after, and took his seat before tapping around on the control panel.

“Ben, what—“

“Brace yourself.” He interjected. You felt the vibrations of the engines starting up and you sunk down in your seat as the ship lifted up and took off. It was silent while Ben was manually flying to a jump point. Once you were in hyperspace, you could see his shoulders relax and he let out a long static sigh.

“Was I just kidnapped?” You asked shakily.

“No,” Ben replied quickly, his voice softer than you remembered. “Well, maybe technically.” He turned his seat around to face you fully. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

He sounded so earnest that you felt your fear begin to fade away. However, you still needed some answers.

“Where are you taking me?” You decided to start with the question that weighed on your mind the most.

“Honestly, I’m not sure yet. Far away from that prison ship, for a start.”

_Strange answer._ “Why did you come for me?”

He sighed again. He was probably warn out from his afternoon of prison breaking, fighting droids, and freeing a convict. “I need your help.” 

That stopped you in your tracks. “ _You_ need _my_ help?” _What could he possibly need me for?_ After that fight in the hallway, the Mandalorian secured his spot as the most capable person you knew.

“Yes, Clara.” Third sigh. This might be a record for him. “You — last time —” he was struggling to get the words out. You got the feeling he didn’t ask for help very often. “You’re good with kids,” he finally blurted out.

“Yeah?” _What?_

“Well…” He faded off, turning his visor toward that weird egg thing that stole your seat. He pressed a button on his vambrace and you heard a quiet _hiss_ as the egg slowly opened. Inside, you saw a little patch of green skin. You stood to get a better view, walking up to the basket slowly as to not disturb whatever was inside. The creature was sleeping, big ears relaxed against his bedding. It looked like a newborn, it was so tiny. The baby’s eyes were shut, but you could tell they were large, especially compared to its tiny head and body. You’ve never seen a creature like this before. You reached out, and slowly stroked the soft skin of its forehead. You remembered that babies liked that. The little one moved slightly under your touch, but didn’t wake. You felt your lips stretch into an involuntary smile, the kind you always got when you saw a cute kid.

“Is this your child?” You turned towards the Mandalorian, fingers still running up and down the child’s forehead. “Are you secretly green under there, Ben?”

“Din,” He replied.

“…Pardon?”

“There’s a lot you should know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello I'm sick this week so if there are any grammatical errors in this chapter I'm blaming the sickness and not my inability to recognize my relentless tense switching. Thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

The Mandalorian started by sharing his name with you. Din Djarin. It made you feel good to know his real name, like you were entrusted into his inner circle. Like maybe you were considered a friend… kinda. Though, it would be kind of strange not referring to him as Ben anymore. That wasn’t really on your mind after he continued his story. 

He recounted the events of the last three months. Basically, the baby — who was actually 50 years old — was a bounty that Din regretted handing over to some evil but well paying Imps. He kept saying the child was “special” but wouldn’t elaborate further than that. You assumed it was hard for him to voice his feelings, though it was obvious he was fond of the kid. After getting his bucket of beskar and immediately upgrading all his armor (you assumed so there could be no takesies backsies) he returned to kick ass and steal the baby. Hopefully, kidnapping wasn’t a fledgling habit of his. He said he fought off at least 10 stormtroopers singlehandedly, but you assumed that was a slight exaggeration. He was on the run for awhile after that, dodging other bounty hunters who were coming for both himself and the baby. The big bad, some guy named something Gideon, had them on the ropes in Navarro before a winged Din blew up his ship. 

“How did you manage to cause so much chaos in three short months?” It was the only thing you could think to say after the monster story Ben (Din?) just laid on you. It was the most you’ve ever heard him speak in one sitting, and every other detail out of his mouth sounded insane.

“Apparently I just have a face for trouble,” he replied, completely monotoned. 

You laughed loudly. You hadn’t laughed in months and it felt so good, like you were releasing something that had been pent up for far too long. The baby stirred in its basket, making a small sound that had both you and Din turning your heads to make sure he was okay. The child’s eyes opened slightly, and he blinked sleepily before focusing on the Mandalorian. His little mouth twisted up into a smile when he recognized his savior. His big eyes slowly turned towards you, and it seemed to take him a few moments before he realized you were a new person. He reached a hand out towards you and babbled.

“Hi buddy,” you said in response. You walked up to the basket again and stuck your finger out for him to grasp. “My name is Clara.”

He squeezed your finger, and looked up at you. He cooed and gave you a smile too, before sticking your finger in his mouth and gently chewing on it.

“He likes you,” Din said from his seat. You turned to him to find he was just watching the two of you interact.

“Well, who wouldn’t,” you said cockily. You removed your finger from his mouth, putting your hands under his arms so you could lift him up and cuddle him to your side. “I haven’t held a baby or a 50 year old man in forever.”

“I don’t have a lot of experience caring for children. I was hoping, if you’re comfortable with it, maybe you could take care of him.” Din said. You paused as his words sunk in. So he broke you out of prison because he needed someone to take the kid. Seemed a little extreme, even for him.

You sighed. “You know I love taking care of children, but I don’t even have a house to go back to. I’m barely 24 years old. You think I can care for a child on my own?” Already, so many things were rushing into your head. You did the mental math of how much it would cost just to feed an extra mouth, not to mention clothes, diapers, medical care. It wasn’t like you had a stable, well paying job to go back to - you were a thief! Your plan after jail was to lay low for a few weeks before causing your normal trouble again. You couldn’t really do that with a kid in tow. 

“Not on your own,” Din cut through your panic inner monologue. “The child is my foundling, and I am responsible for him. We would be taking care of him together,” Din offered. “I can’t really bring a child bounty hunting with me. I need someone to take care of him while I take jobs.”

“Din, I don’t know… This is a big commitment.”

“I understand. I can offer you a place to stay, food to eat.” Din’s voice got soft. “I can keep both of you safe…”

Your brow furrowed as you took in the offer. You looked down at the baby on your hip, who looked back at you with eyes full of amazement. It would be nice to just stop running, even for a little while. Your life had purpose, you helped people as much as you could, but you never felt secure. This would be an opportunity to help Din, the baby, and honestly, yourself. Din kept quiet as you thought it through.

“What about this,” you broke the silence after a few moments. “I’ll stay for a little while, like a trial run. If it’s a good fit for all of us, I’ll stay to help with the child as long as you need me.”

“Deal,” Din said quickly, like he didn’t want you to change your mind. You laid the baby back down in his basket and held out a hand to Din. He stood, letting out a short chuckle, before enveloping your hand with his. His gloved hand was big and warm and the soft leather felt nice under your palm. The two of you shook once before breaking apart - Din turned back to the control panel, and you went back to softly rubbing a finger up and down the child’s head. That reminded you— 

“So, what’s his name?” You asked, turning to look at Din. He looked frozen in place, and wouldn’t make eye — visor — contact with you. “Well, what have you been calling him?”

“…Child,” He admitted, still looking away from you.

“Really? Do you even know if he’s a he?”

“Yes, that was made clear when I changed his robes for the first time,” Din said, sounding a little embarrassed. You tried to imagine him, suit of armor and all, changing a baby, but the image you conjured was so ridiculous you couldn’t help but laugh.

“We’ll have to think of something way better than ‘child’. In the meantime, can you show me around the ship?” There was no time to waste. The sooner this felt like home, or at least a home, the easier it would be to acclimate. 

Din led you out of the cockpit, but didn’t head down the ladder like you thought he would. Instead, he walked around it toward a wall on the opposite side with a single door. He pressed a button on the wall, and the door slid open. You walked inside to find a modestly sized cabin complete with a bed, a small table and chairs in the corner, and a little refresher you could see through the open door across the room. It looked almost completely untouched, down to the neatly made bed.

“Is this where you sleep?” You turned to face Din, who was leaning against the open door. 

“No, I sleep downstairs.”

“Why? Surely, this cabin is bigger.”

“I like to sleep on the main level.” You guessed that was for security purposes. 

“So, are you saying this is my room?” You asked hopefully. The only time you’ve really had a room to yourself was when you were incarcerated, and this was a hell of a lot nicer than any jail cell. 

“Yes, this will be your room,” he said. If you didn’t know any better, it would have sounded like he was smiling under that helmet. You did a little happy dance in place and started examining things more carefully.

“You pretty much saw all of the main level the last time you were here,” he continued. You shivered a little, remembering the racks of carbonite blocks. His voice became a little more serious. “Don’t touch the weapons cabinet unless I tell you to, and don’t go in my room.” 

You gave him a little salute. “Aye aye, captain.” You were too excited about your room to let his sternness bring you down. “Where does the baby sleep?”

“Well,” Why did he sound a little guilty? “There’s a small hatch on the main level —” 

“You lock him in a hatch at night?!” you interrupted.

“If I don’t, he wanders off and causes trouble.”

“Din! He’s like two pounds, how much trouble could he get into?”

He sighed loudly, muttering a quick “you’d be surprised.” It was kind of adorable — he sounded like a fatigued first time dad. Din looked back into the cockpit to check on the little one. You didn’t hear anything and Din didn’t make any move to go get him, so you assumed he drifted back to sleep. You sat down on the bed, which was pretty large and very comfy. 

“So,” you were hoping this question wasn’t off limits. “Do you sleep with your helmet on?”

“Is this the question and answer portion of the trip?”

“It doesn’t have to be, I just have so many questions,” you say earnestly. “If you’re uncomfortable, you don’t have to answer.” Though you were dying of curiosity, you weren’t gonna force answers out of him. The man literally wears a mask every day, getting up-close and personal is obviously not his gig.

Din released a small sigh, but it didn’t sound annoyed. It sounded almost like he had expected this was going to happen. Surely he didn’t think he could break you out of prison and there’d be no follow up questions. He moved to take a seat at the small table in the corner across from the bed. “No, I take all my armor off,” he answered graciously.

“Has the child ever seen your face?” 

“No. No living being has seen my face since I was a boy.” He must have seen the incredulous look on your face, because he continued unprompted. “To become a Mandalorian is a choice, but it’s also a privilege. If my helmet was removed in the presence of another living person, I would lose that privilege. This is the way.”

“Sounds difficult. Did you ever think of taking it off voluntarily — living as just Din, the badass bounty hunter?”

He tilted his visor down for a moment. “Just once… But my desires were selfish.” He sounded almost sad recounting that memory, so you pivoted to something else. 

“Why me?” You had wanted to ask sooner, but you were afraid he’d ask himself the same question and realize you weren’t right for the job; he’d drop you back on that prison ship where you belonged.

“I trust you,” he said confidently. His earnestness gave you a warm feeling in your chest. You don’t remember those words being spoken to you by any other person.

“I’m a criminal.”

“Barely,” he scoffed. _Should I be offended by that?_ “You’re resourceful and smart, you like kids, and I have leverage over you.” You always appreciated the casual threat of blackmail.

“You kidnapped me from jail to look after a baby you stole. I wouldn’t go around comparing leverages there, pal,” you rebutted.

He let out a short laugh and a quiet “fair enough.” 

You pivoted the conversation again. “Why did you break into the prison? My sentence would be over in just a few more months.” 

“I needed help immediately, and was close to the jail ship when I left Navarro with the child. I picked up jailbreaking from a… job I did about a month ago.” So you were just a convenient pick up, then. Maybe there was someone better suited that the Mandalorian knew, but you were physically closer. For some reason, that stung a little bit.

“How old are you?” You tried to change the subject again, not wanting to play into the emotions you felt stirring inside. 

“I’m interested,” he said while he leaned forward in his chair. “How old do you think I am?”

“Hmmm,” you said as you matched his movement, leaning forward on the bed to look at him more intently. You weren’t sure what looking into his helmet would accomplish, but you did it anyway. “I’m gonna guess… 37?”

“No,” he answered rather with a small chuckle. _He’s not even going to tell me the answer?_ He stood out of his chair, and started walking towards the door. You groaned, and fell back onto the bed. You loved finally getting answers to some of these questions and you didn’t want the fun to stop. “We’re going to run low on food soon. We should head to a remote planet to stock up and lay low.”

You nodded your head in agreement. You almost forgot about the whole ship full of fugitives thing. You didn’t have anything with you but the clothes on your back, and technically those belonged to the jail. “Do you have a paper and pen? I need to make a shopping list.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the big gap in chapters! Writing this has been helpful to me in isolation, so hopefully this helps some of you get through quarantine boredom. Stay safe and healthy :)


	5. Chapter 5

The list didn’t get away from you _per se_ , you just needed a lot of stuff. And after some further investigation, you realized you weren’t the only one. There was no real food on the ship, only rations, which tasted bland. There was a food synthesizer, but it went mostly unused, so you added fresh food to the list and vowed to provide the ship with a good meal every now and again. You also added new robes and under garments for the baby, as well as toys after a guilty sounding Din told you he had none. 

Din navigated to the closest planet with a bustling market and no Imps. You’d never heard of the planet before, but Din assured you it should be a safe stop. He wasn’t exactly sure how long you would be on the planet, but he was hoping to stay for at least a couple weeks. He wouldn’t admit it, but you assumed he was flying by the seat of his pants on this one and needed some time to devise a grand plan. 

Din landed the ship in an isolated part of the city, within walking distance of the market. You looked outside the big cockpit windows, and saw some trees and a clear, silver blue sky. It looked like a harmless enough area — no mountains, deserts, or expansive forests to traverse. Seemed like a nice place to stay for awhile. You walked over to the child’s basket and started to get him ready to leave. You made sure you put some rations under the blankets of his basket in case he got hungry on the trip. You also included an extra set of robes just in case. His big eyes blinked up at you slowly, and you knew he would be out like a light any minute. You pulled his basket into your room to keep an eye on him while you got yourself ready. You pulled on both shoes before realizing you had a bit of a problem. 

“Uh, hey Din?” you shouted out of the door to your room.

“Yeah?” He responded from the lower level.

“I look like a prisoner,” you admitted. You looked down at your white long sleeved shirt, your prisoner number printed boldly on the front. Your orange baggy cargo pants, scuffed and ripped in some places, hung from your frame in an unflattering way. 

“Oh, uh…”

“Do you have a shirt I could borrow? Maybe a belt?” You headed down the ladder to meet him on the first floor. Din disappeared into his room, returning after a few minutes with a worn but soft looking grey long sleeved shirt, similar to the one he was wearing under his beskar. He handed it to you before heading over to the weapons cabinet and opening it. He dug around and pulled out a worn, brown leather ammo belt. He took out all the bullets from their individual sleeves and removed something that looked suspiciously like a grenade before turning and handing that to you too.

“Thanks,” you said, graciously taking the belt from him. He just nods quickly in response and turned back to the weapons cabinet to stock his own supply. You strip off your prison shirt quickly, and throw it to the side with a frown. You felt weird being topless right behind the Mandalorian’s back, so you quickly pulled his shirt over your head. It smelled good, like clean laundry and a hint of something warm and spicy you couldn’t place. Once it was on you, you realized you were swimming in it. The sleeves were too long, and the hemline reached the middle of your thighs. If it was a little longer, you could have gotten away with wearing it as a dress.

Din closed the cabinet and locked it before turning around to face you. He gave you a quick once over, and couldn’t help but let out a quiet chuckle. You looked up at him, offended.

“Hey, don’t laugh! You’re the one that has to be seen outside with me.”

“Here,” he said, coming up to you slowly. He lifted your arm and gently started rolling your sleeve until it was cuffed above your hands. He then moved on to the next arm, repeating the action.

“You’re smarter than you look,” you commented quietly, tucking your shirt into your pants.

“Not the first time I've gotten that," he said while you pulled your pants up to your waist, and belted it in place.

“How do I look?” You asked, giving him a little spin.

“Less like a convict,” he said blandly, walking over to go up the ladder. _Exactly the response I was hoping for_. You rolled your eyes and followed him up, going into your room to check on the child. He was peacefully sleeping in his basket. “You ready?” Din asked from behind you, near the door.

“All set!” You were excited — it was your first trip out and about in over three months and you just wanted to feel the sun on your face and the wind through your curls. Din pressed a button on his vambrace and the child’s basket shut slowly. Din started walking back down the ladder; you and the basket followed closely behind. Once he reached the bottom level, he walked over and opened the side ramp. A gust of chilly wind blasted through the ship and it felt refreshing against your cheeks. “It smells so good, so clean,” you commented, closing your eyes and spreading your arms wide against the breeze.

“Are you going to need a jacket?” Din asked unenthusiastically, opening the child’s basket so he can cover him up with the blankets he was laying on before closing it again.

“And ruin this feeling? Of course not,” you reply with your eyes still closed. You hadn’t realized how accustomed you had become to stale, recycled air. First in the prison and then in Din’s ship. It was a little cold, but nothing you couldn’t manage.

For about 20 minutes.

Once the three of you reached the main market, you were chilled to the bone — your pants and long shirt were no match for the wind — but you were too proud to say anything about it. You pulled your list out of one of your pockets and decided to work on food first. You, Din, and the sleeping child walked around for about a half hour, but you were still only halfway through the list.

“Here,” Din said. He came to a halt and turned toward you before taking the two big bags out of your hands and passing you some credits. “We should split up.”

“Okay, good idea,” you responded. You held the list and first ripped away everything you already completed, putting that in a nearby trash bin. Then you took the remaining list and ripped it again, handing half to Din. He pocketed it, and then fished something out of his ammo belt. It looked like a small flat disk. He reached over to your own belt and slid the disk inside one of the pockets. He pressed a button on his vambrace and the child’s basket floated closer to you. 

“He’ll follow you now,” Din explained. “One more thing,” he said as he reached behind his neck. He removed his cape and draped it around your shoulders. “Next time, bring a jacket.” He picked up the bags and walked away, tall and confident as ever. You couldn’t help but smile a little. You wouldn’t have described a Mandalorian as caring before you met Din. You wrapped the cape tighter around you, taking comfort in its warmth. The smell was familiar — it carried the same spicy mystery scent that clung to the shirt he gave you.

You kept the lid closed on the child’s basket partially because it was cold out but also because you didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention to yourself. You knew the child carried a bounty, and there weren’t many babies like him walking around. You were also pretty sure there was now a bounty on you since your escape from prison a few hours ago. You just wanted to get in and out quickly, without making any fuss.

The smaller list was easy enough to manage, and you finished after just a few minutes. Of course, you also found some things that were not on the list, but Din was generous with the credits and you just got out of jail. _Why not live a little_ , you thought. You bought a backpack to better store the child’s snacks and extra clothes while out and about and even managed to have enough left over to buy him a few extra toys. You stuffed everything into your new backpack, and started walking to find Din. You and Din hadn’t planned on where to meet up, so you just returned to the area where you had last been together, and hoped he would do the same. There was a small bench near one of the stalls that was tucked away from a lot of the foot traffic, and you took a seat to rest your legs. You positioned the baby’s basket to be between you and a wall to your left. Inside the basket, you heard the baby cooing, getting restless. You decided this was a remote enough section of the market, so you clicked a button on the side of the basket and the top slowly opened. The child stood excitedly, and his big eyes looked around the market.

“Hey little baby,” you said to get his attention. He looked at you and smiled, reaching out with his tiny fingers. You bundled him up in his blanket, making sure the top of his head and his big ears were covered before lifting him from his basket and wrapping him in the cape against your side. “Your dad is off shopping, but he’ll be back soon.”

“Hopefully not too soon,” a deep voice to your right said in an accent you couldn’t place. You looked up to find a tall, purple Twi’lek man leering down at you. His face was covered in scars, and his small smirk revealed pointy canines underneath. You hugged the baby closer to your side, hiding him from view. “What kind of a man leaves his girl and kid all alone at the market?”

“A violent one,” you responded quickly in an uninterested voice, hoping he would just take the hint and leave you alone. Instead, he just chuckled.

“I see,” he said as he sat down on the opposite end of the short bench. “I like your pants, by the way. They typically don’t let people keep them.”

You felt the blood drain from your face. You looked down at your dumb bright orange prison pants before turning to look at him. Your eyes were probably the size of saucers staring into his. You tried to figure out what angle he was playing. He didn’t seem like a very decent person, thoughtlessly frightening a young woman with a child in a secluded part of the market. Not exactly the type who would go running to turn you in. He seemed more the type to utilize this leverage against you to get something for himself, and you didn’t want to think about what that could possibly mean for you. You were just staring at him for awhile, trying to think of a clever enough lie to feed him.

“Don’t worry, baby, I won’t tell anyone. Actually,” he looked around and scooted closer towards you, pinning you to the baby’s basket that was already pinned to the wall. He leaned in close and put his arm on the bench behind your head. “I myself have escaped once or twice.” He smiled again, and looked you up and down quickly. He was so close you could smell his horrible breath and feel his credit bag, tucked in his jacket breast pocket, pressing against your right upper arm. 

You tried to play it cool again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I —“

“Hey, it’s alright. You’re a young mother with a family to take care of,” he continued, nodding toward the bundle of blankets in your arms. “Can’t do that in prison. So, how did you do it? Seduce the New Republic soldier on board?”

Quickly, you thought of the best course of action. Surely it wasn’t telling the truth; that could come back to bite you. What if you started screaming? Would that draw too much attention to yourself and the child? You felt helpless. If it was just you, you’d risk fighting and yelling and making a scene, but it wasn’t just you. You looked down at the blankets in your hands, and your grip tightened. You needed to find Din. He was the most intimidating person you knew. If he was by your side, there was no way this guy would try anything. You looked back at the man.

You leaned your head in a little closer, prompting him to do the same. “You really wanna know?” You tried to make your voice sound calm. When he got close enough, you maintained eye contact and snaked your left hand into his front pocket, being careful to not apply too much pressure as you gently lifted the credit bag free. “Well,” you said, stalling as you turned to put the baby, and the credit bag, into the basket. You closed the lid. “The first thing I did was —“

You punched him, hard, in his nethers and took off running in the opposite direction. You put one hand on the basket, pushing it in front of you so it didn’t lag behind. You put the other hand on the strap of your backpack to keep it in place. Your eyes were bouncing left and right as you ran, trying to find Din in the madness of the market. _Honestly, it should not be this difficult to find a 6 foot tall, chrome Mandalorian in a crowd_. You didn’t want to yell for him because you didn’t want the people around you to start panicking. You also didn’t want to turn around because if that Twi was right behind you, you didn’t want to risk slowing down enough for him to catch you. After a few minutes of running, you finally saw a shiny silver helmet in the distance. You ran towards it, swerving between booths and dodging annoyed looking people.

“Hey,” you tried to say, but you were so out of breath it just came out as a puff of air. “Hey!” You tried again, and it came out a little stronger. Din looked towards the noise, and saw you running towards him, eyes wild and chest heaving. He immediately dropped the bags he was holding as his hand went to rest on his blaster at his side. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked when you reached him. He put a hand on your shoulder, ready to move you out of the way if necessary, while he looked around in the direction you came from.

“Tw-Twi dude,” you huffed. “Purple *huff* creepy *huff* knew my *huff* pants.” You doubled over, trying to catch your breath.

“We have to go,” Din said sternly, picking up the bags he dropped, “now.”

You stood up straight and followed him out of the market. He was walking so fast, you basically had to jog to keep up with him. _Stars, I need to work out more._ The baby’s basket hovered along next to you, and you could hear faint noises coming from inside. Poor kid was probably so scared in there. You were just a few paces from the ship when Din stopped short. His arm came out to stop you from going any further, and he positioned himself in front of you, blocking your view slightly. You peeked around his shoulder to see what was going on, and saw the same Twi’lek man from the market leaning against the ship, a blaster in his right hand. His face was twisted into a creepy smile that didn’t reach his eyes. 

“I knew I’d seen that floating pod before,” you heard the familiar voice say a few feet ahead of you. 

“How’d he find us?” you whispered, mostly to yourself. Din responded by grabbing your arm with his left hand and pushing you further behind him. His right hand was still holding your shopping bags. You reached your hand out to pull the baby closer too, just in case.

“See, right before you dropped me off to my death, I saw that same little pod on the Razor Crest.” The Twi’lek man paused to chuckle, tapping the ship twice with the butt of his blaster. “I didn’t notice it at first — that pretty little thing behind you distracted me, but after I saw those pants and that pod, I put two and two together. Are you in the prison break business now, Mando?”

It was just your luck — randomly bumping into one of Din’s disgruntled past bounties at a random market on a random planet. 

“Qin, just let us pass and we’ll leave this planet. We aren’t here to start trouble.” Din tried to be reasonable with the man. 

“Can’t let that happen, Mando. You locked up my sister, made me believe she was dead. Then you called a firing squad on me. I barely made it off that damn ship. Then, your little jailbird there punched me and stole my credits!” He was getting progressively louder, and angrier. You assumed he pointed his weapon at Din from the way you felt him tense.

“Qin, put it down. Don’t make me finish you off for good this time.” 

“I won’t let you get the drop on me again.” 

“Your grievance is with me. Not the girl or the child. Let them board the ship, and then we’ll settle this.” It seemed Din knew that a fight was inevitable, but you didn’t like the idea of being shut away in the ship. Deep down you understood Din was trying to protect you, and the baby, but it made you feel useless.

“Fine,” Qin agreed, much to your surprise. He started walking slowly, forming a half circle as he kept the same distance between Din and himself. Din mirrored him, keeping you and the child behind his back as he moved you towards the ship. Once you reached the side of the ship, he pressed a button on his vambrace and the ramp lowered slowly. Without looking back, he handed you the shopping bags, finally freeing his dominant hand. You turned and walked the few feet back to the ship, pulling the baby’s basket along with you. You felt frightened being out in the open for the first time. You didn’t want Qin’s eyes on you at all, especially when your back was turned. Din kept his focus firmly on Qin, and put a hand on his blaster. 

Neither of you saw the second person sneak around the ship and follow you up the open ramp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's getting exciting!! Thanks for reading :)


	6. Chapter 6

Once on the ship, you made a beeline to the small hatch you’d noticed previously on the main level. Din had once told you that he would lock the child in this hatch to keep him out of trouble. While you didn’t totally approve of that practice, right now you were desperate to get the kid to safety by any means necessary. Also, selfishly, you wanted to keep an eye on Din. Outside, you could still hear his calm voice trying to reason with Qin, who wasn’t backing down. You dumped the shopping bags you were carrying in the corner near the ladder, and you put the child down inside the hatch. He looked uneasy and was cooing at you with worried eyes. Somehow you felt like he understood the purpose of this hatch, as well, and he was getting anxious.

“Don’t worry little guy, he’s just outside.” You tried to make your voice sound comforting, but it was shaky. You slung your heavy backpack onto the floor, and started digging through it. You found one of the toys you’d purchased earlier for the child, and handed it to him in the hatch. He sat down and halfheartedly started passing it from hand to hand, still looking up at you. While he was somewhat distracted, you quickly closed the hatch. You breathed a sigh of relief, knowing the child was safe from any rogue blaster fire. Luckily, you didn’t hear the sounds of fighting outside — maybe Din was getting through to this man.

Before you could turn around, you felt a small hand snake around from behind you to quickly and roughly cover your mouth. You felt something poking you in the neck, and something else poking you in the back of your thigh. You started wiggling, trying to break free. This person wasn’t much taller than you, but they were incredibly strong. You tried to yell something — anything — but the hand was tight against your mouth.

“Now, now,” a feminine voice said right behind your ear. Her accent was similar to Qin’s, but sharper and more clear. Her breath on your skin made you involuntarily shiver. “It’s not very bright to struggle when there’s a knife to your throat.”

_Kriff_. You stopped struggling, and stopped trying to yell as realization struck. You were the only thing standing between her and the child, and you didn’t want to do anything to upset her. The woman started moving you, away from the hatch — _thank god_ — and toward the ramp you came from. She positioned you in front of her like a human shield. You could see Din where you’d left him, his back turned to the ship and his blaster drawn. Across from him, Qin also stood with his blaster drawn. When he looked up and saw you, he smiled.

“Are you boys done?” the woman behind you asked sarcastically. Din’s helmet rotated immediately, his body turning halfway so he could keep his blaster trained on Qin while pointing his left vambrace towards you and the woman.

“Xi’an?” Din said in slight disbelief. _He knows this lady too?!_ Hopefully none of his other old pals were hanging out on this planet. You didn’t know how much more abuse you could take. The knife at your throat was uncomfortable, but luckily it had not pierced your skin. The knife you felt against your thigh was the more painful one — you were sure it had cut the back of your leg at least a couple times. Since both her hands were near your face, you assumed the knife in your thigh was in some kind of holster. You went to move your hand near it, just to get an idea of what kind of strap it was in, but stopped once you realized how badly you were shaking. Accidentally touching the woman or the knife would have probably ended in you getting hurt. Instead, you stood silently, staring into Din’s visor for some kind of reassurance. 

“She came to bail me out of prison, you didn’t think I’d do the same for her? My own little sister,” Qin said. It clicked in your brain then — this woman must be the sister he mentioned earlier. Din made him think she was dead. Din maintained eye contact with you as he dipped his helmet in a small, quick nod before he turned to look towards Qin again. You understood what he was trying to communicate. It was almost time to fight.

“What do you want?” Din asked, turning to look at Qin.

“Doesn’t matter what I want, Mando, only what I’m _going_ to do,” Qin replied in a terrifying tone. “I’m going to kill you and strip the amor off your dead body. I’m going to steal your lousy ship, and then I’m going to collect whatever bounty is on that girl.” He briefly pointed his gun at you before returning aim to Din. He was practically yelling now, and he was inching closer with every word. “Finally, I’m going to sell that damned kid to the highest bidder.” 

Qin rapidly fired a few shots toward Din, but Din was quick to start dodging them. A couple shots deflected off his armor, but it looked like one shot landed. Din briefly held the side of his abdomen, but didn’t go down. You were struggling in the woman’s arms again without really realizing it. You were either trying to distance yourself from the gun battle or trying to run to help Din, but you weren’t quiet sure. It was useless, though, as the woman held you tighter against her body. The knife in your thigh dug in painfully with the increased pressure, and you could feel the warm wet trail of blood gently flow down your thigh. Din hid behind one of the ship’s legs, slightly slumped, and finally returned fire. The wound on his side must be affecting his aim because all his shots missed, and Qin kept advancing. 

“It’s useless, Mando,” Qin yelled. He was descending on the pillar where Din was hiding. Din’s body language looked exhausted, but he kept his blaster at the ready. His other hand was still holding his side. He turned his helmet up towards you and you tried your best to communicate _“he’s right behind the pillar please don’t die”_ with your eyes. 

Din waited until Qin was forced to choose a way to go, right or left, around the leg of the ship to reach the opposite side. Once Qin stepped to his right, Din moved quickly, turning to the same side and firing the grappling hook from his vambrace, hooking Qin’s leg before he could take another step. Din pulled hard, toppling Qin over smoothly. Once Qin was on his back, Din stepped out from behind the ship and fired three shots directly into Qin’s chest. Qin stopped moving immediately, his crumpled body laying lifeless on the ground.

You felt the woman behind you gasp, and her hold loosened slightly. She started wailing like a wounded animal, with only a few formed words escaping from her mouth. You took her distraction as an opportunity and quickly ducked out of her grasp, being careful not to cut your throat on the knife that was still raised. Once you were down, you didn’t have much time. You quickly grabbed the knife you had felt poking your leg from the woman’s thigh strap and stood in one fluid motion. The woman held her knife at you while you held your knife at her. She screamed loudly, and then started advancing. You didn’t have time to think. You acted on instinct. Holding the knife in both hands, you ducked straight down and looked toward the ground while raising the knife up above your head, toward the woman. When her body hit your knife, it felt strange. There was pressure, but not as much resistance as you thought there’d be. It got quiet — the woman’s screams tapering off to a whimper. You looked up and saw her face. She looked shocked, like she was gasping for air. Your eyes moved from her face to her chest, where you could recognize your own hands but only the hilt of the knife. The rest was plunged deep into the woman’s skin. Blue liquid started dripping down the handle of the knife onto your fingers. You dropped your hands away fast, as if the knife had physically shocked you.

The woman slumped slowly to the floor, coming to rest on her side, facing you. The knife was still in her heart. Her breathing was shallow, and inconsistent. You started to stand up. You wanted to walk away, turn and forget this sight, but you couldn’t. You slowly backed up, your eyes on the woman’s body. She had stopped breathing, and was just laying lifeless with her eyes still trained on you. As you looked on, the woman got blurry. You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt the tears pool under your chin. You only looked away from the woman, _the woman you just killed_ , when something dark crowded your vision.

You looked up to see Din’s visor looking back at you. His hands came up slowly, like he was trying to steady you, but he didn’t touch you. 

“You okay?” He gently rasped. He was a little out of breath from the fight. You couldn’t answer him. You didn’t know how you felt. You were crying, so you were sad? And relieved. Guilty. _Oh god._ You felt like you couldn’t catch your breath. 

“I just—“ you started. You looked from Din to your shaking hands. You saw spots of blue staining your skin. The woman’s blood. “I just—“

“You protected yourself,” Din supplied sharply. 

He was right, right? Your quick hands had gone into motion before your brain could fully grasp the finality of this exact outcome. The look in her eyes was unlike anything you’ve seen before, and you didn’t doubt she was intending on making you a revenge kill. The thought of that outcome made your knees weak, and your vision started to wobble again. You closed your eyes against it and reached out to Din in front of you, holding onto his arms for support. He reached his arms out to grasp your shoulders, making sure you weren’t about to collapse in front of him. When you felt his hands on you, you gave in completely and leaned your head against his cold chest plate. Din was always so solid, and you needed that now more than ever. He let you rest against him in that awkward hug stance for a few moments before you opened your eyes again and withdrew.

“The baby?” You asked suddenly.

“I can still hear him in the hatch.”

“Oh, I gotta…” you trail off. You walked around Din, making an extra effort to not look at the woman on the floor, on your way to the hatch. You could feel Din’s eyes on you the whole way.

You stopped a few inches away from the door and wiped your hands on your pants before wiping at your eyes. You didn’t want to scare the child. You reached over and pressed the button that opened the hatch. As the door slid open, you saw the little green child standing impatiently with a confused look on his face.

“Hey little guy,” you said shakily. You cleared your throat and tried again. “Let’s go up to our room.” You pulled him out of the hatch and made sure he wasn’t able to see over your shoulders. You ascended the ladder slowly with one hand and walked to your room, closing the door behind you. You put the baby on your bed and laid down next to him. You don’t know how long you were there, just staring at the ceiling. It could have been a few seconds or an hour. You didn’t move until you heard the ramp closing on the main floor. You looked down at your side where you put the child earlier, only to find him sound asleep. He was clinging to your shirt, keeping you close. All the excitement must have tuckered him out. You smiled a little. The kid had a way of making you feel better. 

A soft knock on your door broke through your thoughts. “One second,” you said quietly. You got up slowly, gently prying the child’s fingers from your shirt and moving him up the bed so he was laying on a pillow. You put the blankets over him and decided he should probably be taking a nap right now anyway. “Come in.”

The door opened but Din didn’t make a move to walk inside. Instead, his large frame stood awkwardly, taking up the whole doorway. You saw his visor shift from you to the sleeping child on the bed before coming back to land on you. In his hands were the bags from the market and your backpack. 

“I thought you might want your things,” he offers lightly.

“Oh, thanks,” you replied as you stepped forward to take them from him. You put everything on the small table in the corner of your room and begin removing items from the bags. 

“Clara,” Din said, breaking the silence. His voice made you jump a little — you thought he had already left. You looked over to him, still standing in the doorway.

“Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

You sighed, looking back at the bags on the table. You didn’t really want to discuss all this right now, especially not with the child in the room. “I’m okay,” you paused for a second. Obviously he wouldn’t believe that lie. “I will be okay, soon.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“What?!” Your head snapped up to check your arms for wounds. You didn’t feel any pain and you were pretty sure the woman didn’t get a chance to slice you, but maybe you were mistaken. 

“Your leg,” Din clarified. You looked down and didn’t see anything on the front of your pants. You twisted right and left to try to see the back of your legs. _The knife on her thigh._ You had forgotten about that. It was poking you earlier, but the pain stopped once the shock started. Now that Din mentioned it, you could feel the return of throbbing pain on the back of your right thigh. He finally entered the room, walking swiftly to your side.

“She had a knife on a thigh holster,” you told him. 

“We need to sanitize and dress it. If it’s bad, it might need to be cauterized.”

_Wait a minute._ “You got hurt,” you remembered suddenly. You turned quickly to face Din, taking the focus off your leg. “Din, you got shot!” You looked at his torso. Without thinking, you reached out to lift his arm so you could get a better view of his side. It was unprotected by any kind of armor. Din sighed at the intrusion, but didn’t protest other than that. The fabric between his chest-plate and belt were torn by the bullet, and there was a large bloodstain around the tear. You gently opened the hole in his shirt a little wider so you could see inside. 

You were surprised to see his skin was tanned. Naturally, you assumed, since he was covered head to toe whenever he went outside. There was a graze about an inch wide but luckily it didn’t look too deep. There was some blood, but it looked like the shirt caught most of it. The wound itself was pretty clean. You gently put your finger tips on his warm skin, being careful not to touch too close to the cut.

“Does it hurt?” You looked up to meet his visor.

“A little.”

“It needs to be cauterized.” The wound wasn’t too bad, but you knew with Din’s profession he would not dedicate the time needed to let it fully heal on its own. 

“I thought so.”

“I’ll fix you if you fix me?” you offered.

Din let out a quick huff of amusement. “Deal. You first.” He moved out of your grasp, letting you know there was no room for argument. Your leg was really starting to hurt anyway. 

You excused yourself for a moment to change into shorts — luckily you got some new clothes at the market — before returning to face your fate. Din said that it wasn’t bad enough to be cauterized, but it was worse than you’d assumed it was. Instead, he cleaned the gouges and gently placed a large medpatch over everything. When it was Din’s turn, he handed you the cauterizer and told you to move quickly before taking off his belt and raising up the hem of his shirt. You could see a lot of his skin now, more than you’ve ever seen before. He was muscular, but in a delicate way. His skin was smooth overall, but you could see shiny healed scars littered here and there. You quickly cauterized his wound, pretending not to notice when he fidgeted in pain. You also applied a medpatch, just to be safe. Din dropped his shirt and sighed in relief when it was all over. He sat heavily on the bed.

“Do we have to leave now?” you asked, secretly hopeful. You knew Din’s plan was to stay for awhile, but after today you just wanted to leave this planet and never return.

“I think so,” Din said tiredly. “I don’t know who they were with here. Someone might come looking for them.”

“That's understandable. So... you seemed to know them,” you prompted.

“Yes. After I broke you out, do you remember I mentioned a prison break job?” You nodded at him. “Breaking Qin out was the job. Xi’an helped… kind of. The team double crossed me so I locked her in a cell and planted a beacon on him that was signaling New Republic attack ships. I watched the ship he was on get destroyed as I flew off.”

“Damn, Din. That’s cold, even for you,” you replied, slightly shocked.

“They deserved it. They locked me in a cell. They were going to leave me for dead and steal my ship. The child was onboard.”

_Ah._ “Okay, I can understand your reaction now.”

“I didn’t think I would see either of them again, especially this soon. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Din, you couldn’t have predicted it. I’m just glad we made it out…” _Alive._

“I want to train you,” Din said suddenly. 

“Excuse me?”

“Seeing you with a knife to your throat —“ Din shook his head slowly, like he was trying to shake out the memory. “You're right, it was an unpredictable attack that I couldn't protect you from. I want to know you can take care of yourself, and the child. In case I can’t.”

That was a depressing thought, but you didn’t really disagree with his logic. Feeling helpless was terrifying, and even though he didn’t intend to, Din made you feel helpless a lot. Traveling alongside a Mandalorian frequently made you feel inadequate at best and a burden at worst. Being trained by one might fix that.

“I’m in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long gap in posting!


End file.
